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<h2> BOOK VIII. FUTURE TIMES </h2>
<h3> THE ENDLESS HISTORY </h3>
<p>Alca is becoming Americanised.—M. Daniset.</p>
<p>And he overthrew those cities, and all the plain, and all the inhabitants
of the cities, and that which grew upon the ground.—Genesis xix. 25</p>
<p>{greek here} (Herodotus, Histories, VII cii.)</p>
<p>Poverty hast ever been familiar to Greece, but virtue has been acquired,
having been accomplished by wisdom and firm laws.—Henry Cary's
Translation.</p>
<p>You have not seen angels then.—Liber Terribilis.</p>
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hojtgjobo—difsftr—vjejtqpteoueftsjdifttftevqbzt fuqbsmfn<br/>
Pzfoevofqsf ttfbdifuffejsjhfboumpqjojno Voufnpjoxfsiejrvf<br/></p>
<p>We are now beginning to study a chemistry which will deal with effects
produced by bodies containing a quantity of concentrated energy the like
of which we have not yet had at our disposal.—Sir William Ramsay.</p>
<p>S. I</p>
<p>The houses were never high enough to satisfy them; they kept on making
them still higher and built them of thirty or forty storeys: with offices,
shops, banks, societies one above another; they dug cellars and tunnels
ever deeper downwards.</p>
<p>Fifteen millions of men laboured in a giant town by the light of beacons
which shed forth their glare both day and night. No light of heaven
pierced through the smoke of the factories with which the town was girt,
but sometimes the red disk of a rayless sun might be seen riding in the
black firmament through which iron bridges ploughed their way, and from
which there descended a continual shower of soot and cinders. It was the
most industrial of all the cities in the world and the richest. Its
organisation seemed perfect. None of the ancient aristocratic or
democratic forms remained; everything was subordinated to the interests of
the trusts. This environment gave rise to what anthropologists called the
multi-millionaire type. The men of this type were at once energetic and
frail, capable of great activity in forming mental combinations and of
prolonged labour in offices, but men whose nervous irritability suffered
from hereditary troubles which increased as time went on.</p>
<p>Like all true aristocrats, like the patricians of republican Rome or the
squires of old England, these powerful men affected a great severity in
their habits and customs. They were the ascetics of wealth. At the
meetings of the trusts an observer would have noticed their smooth and
puffy faces, their lantern cheeks, their sunken eyes and wrinkled brows.
With bodies more withered, complexions yellower, lips drier, and eyes
filled with a more burning fanaticism than those of the old Spanish monks,
these multimillionaires gave themselves up with inextinguishable ardour to
the austerities of banking and industry. Several, denying themselves all
happiness, all pleasure, and all rest, spent their miserable lives in
rooms without light or air, furnished only with electrical apparatus,
living on eggs and milk, and sleeping on camp beds. By doing nothing
except pressing nickel buttons with their fingers, these mystics heaped up
riches of which they never even saw the signs, and acquired the vain
possibility of gratifying desires that they never experienced.</p>
<p>The worship of wealth had its martyrs. One of these multi-millionaires,
the famous Samuel Box, preferred to die rather than surrender the smallest
atom of his property. One of his workmen, the victim of an accident while
at work, being refused any indemnity by his employer, obtained a verdict
in the courts, but repelled by innumerable obstacles of procedure, he fell
into the direst poverty. Being thus reduced to despair, he succeeded by
dint of cunning and audacity in confronting his employer with a loaded
revolver in his hand, and threatened to blow out his brains if he did not
give him some assistance. Samuel Box gave nothing, and let himself be
killed for the sake of principle.</p>
<p>Examples that come from high quarters are followed. Those who possessed
some small capital (and they were necessarily the greater number),
affected the ideas and habits of the multi-millionaires, in order that
they might be classed among them. All passions which injured the increase
or the preservation of wealth, were regarded as dishonourable; neither
indolence, nor idleness, nor the taste for disinterested study, nor love
of the arts, nor, above all, extravagance, was ever forgiven; pity was
condemned as a dangerous weakness. Whilst every inclination to
licentiousness excited public reprobation, the violent and brutal
satisfaction of an appetite was, on the contrary, excused; violence, in
truth, was regarded as less injurious to morality, since it manifested a
form of social energy. The State was firmly based on two great public
virtues: respect for the rich and contempt for the poor. Feeble spirits
who were still moved by human suffering had no other resource than to take
refuge in a hypocrisy which it was impossible to blame, since it
contributed to the maintenance of order and the solidity of institutions.</p>
<p>Thus, among the rich, all were devoted to their social order, or seemed to
be so; all gave good examples, if all did not follow them. Some felt the
gravity of their position cruelly; but they endured it either from pride
or from duty. Some attempted, in secret and by subterfuge, to escape from
it for a moment. One of these, Edward Martin, the President, of the Steel
Trust, sometimes dressed himself as a poor man, went: forth to beg his
bread, and allowed himself to be jostled by the passers-by. One day, as he
asked alms on a bridge, he engaged in a quarrel with a real beggar, and
filled with a fury of envy, he strangled him.</p>
<p>As they devoted their whole intelligence to business, they sought no
intellectual pleasures. The theatre, which had formerly been very
flourishing among them, was now reduced to pantomimes and comic dances.
Even the pieces in which women acted were given up; the taste for pretty
forms and brilliant toilettes had been lost; the somersaults of clowns and
the music of negroes were preferred above them, and what roused enthusiasm
was the sight of women upon the stage whose necks were bedizened with
diamonds, or processions carrying golden bars in triumph. Ladies of wealth
were as much compelled as the men to lead a respectable life. According to
a tendency common to all civilizations, public feeling set them up as
symbols; they were, by their austere magnificence, to represent both the
splendour of wealth and its intangible. The old habits of gallantry had
been reformed, Tut fashionable lovers were now secretly replaced by
muscular labourers or stray grooms. Nevertheless, scandals were rare, a
foreign journey concealed nearly all of them, and the Princesses of the
Trusts remained objects of universal esteem.</p>
<p>The rich formed only a small minority, but their collaborators, who
composed the entire people, had been completely won over or completely
subjugated by them. They formed two classes, the agents of commerce or
banking, and workers in the factories. The former contributed an immense
amount of work and received large salaries. Some of them succeeded in
founding establishments of their own; for in the constant increase of the
public wealth the more intelligent and audacious could hope for anything.
Doubtless it would have been possible to find a certain number of
discontented and rebellious persons among the immense crowd of engineers
and accountants, but this powerful society had imprinted its firm
discipline even on the minds of its opponents. The very anarchists were
laborious and regular.</p>
<p>As for the workmen who toiled in the factories that surrounded the town,
their decadence, both physical and moral, was terrible; they were examples
of the type of poverty as it is set forth by anthropology. Although the
development among them of certain muscles, due to the particular nature of
their work, might give a false idea of their strength, they presented sure
signs of morbid debility. Of low stature, with small heads and narrow
chests, they were further distinguished from the comfortable classes by a
multitude of physiological anomalies, and, in particular, by a common want
of symmetry between the head and the limbs. And they were destined to a
gradual and continuous degeneration, for the State made soldiers of the
more robust among them, and the health of these did not long withstand the
brothels and the drink-shops that sprang up around their barracks. The
proletarians became more and more feeble in mind. The continued weakening
of their intellectual faculties was not entirely due to their manner of
life; it resulted also from a methodical selection carried out by the
employers. The latter, fearing that workmen of too great ability might be
inclined to put forward legitimate demands, took care to eliminate them by
every possible means, and preferred to engage ignorant and stupid
labourers, who were incapable of defending their rights, but were yet
intelligent enough to perform their toil, which highly perfected machines
rendered extremely simple. Thus the proletarians were unable to do
anything to improve their lot. With difficulty did they succeed by means
of strikes in maintaining the rate of their wages. Even this means began
to fail them. The alternations of production inherent in the capitalist
system caused such cessations of work that, in several branches of
industry, as soon as a strike was declared, the accumulation of products
allowed the employers to dispense with the strikers. In a word, these
miserable employees were plunged in a gloomy apathy that nothing
enlightened and nothing exasperated. They were necessary instruments for
the social order and well adapted to their purpose.</p>
<p>Upon the whole, this social order seemed the most firmly established that
had yet been seen, at least amon kind, for that of bees and ants is
incomparably more stable. Nothing could foreshadow the ruin of a system
founded on what is strongest in human nature, pride and cupidity. However,
keen observers discovered several grounds for uneasiness. The most
certain, although the least apparent, were of an economic order, and
consisted in the continually increasing amount of over-production, which
entailed long and cruel interruptions of labour, though these were, it is
true, utilized by the manufacturers as a means of breaking the power of
the workmen, by facing them with the prospect of a lock-out. A more
obvious peril resulted from the physiological state of almost the entire
population. "The health of the poor is what it must be," said the experts
in hygiene, "but that of the rich leaves much to be desired." It was not
difficult to find the causes of this. The supply of oxygen necessary for
life was insufficient in the city, and men breathed in an artificial air.
The food trusts, by means of the most daring chemical syntheses, produced
artificial wines, meat, milk, fruit, and vegetables, and the diet thus
imposed gave rise to stomach and brain troubles. The multi-millionaires
were bald at the age of eighteen; some showed from time to time a
dangerous weakness of mind. Over-strung and enfeebled, they gave enormous
sums to ignorant charlatans; and it was a common thing for some
bath-attendant or other trumpery who turned healer or prophet, to make a
rapid fortune by the practice of medicine or theology. The number of
lunatics increased continually; suicides multiplied in the world of
wealth, and many of them were accompanied by atrocious and extraordinary
circumstances, which bore witness to an unheard o perversion of
intelligence and sensibility.</p>
<p>Another fatal symptom created a strong impression upon average minds.
Terrible accidents, henceforth periodical and regular, entered into
people's calculations, and kept mounting higher and higher in statistical
tables. Every day, machines burst into fragments, houses fell down, trains
laden with merchandise fell on to the streets, demolishing entire
buildings and crushing hundreds of passers-by. Through the ground,
honey-combed with tunnels, two or three storeys of work-shops would often
crash, engulfing all those who worked in them.</p>
<p>S. 2</p>
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